


Carmen.

by SpineFuneral



Series: BoothWorld [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Blood and Gore, BoothWorld, Brutal Murder, Dark Web, Dystopia, Dystopian Future, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Murder, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Red Room, Slums, Swearing, Talking to Reader, deep web
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpineFuneral/pseuds/SpineFuneral
Summary: District 9's reputation exceeds itself, however even the wicked have monsters they're afraid of.
Series: BoothWorld [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788241
Kudos: 2





	Carmen.

**Author's Note:**

> Visual album you can go with (NSFW): https://imgur.com/a/ffMZE83

Nothing like a nice night out in my favorite place, the District 9 docks. 

No one to yell at you for taking out the trash, no cops and none of the watchful eyes of the "Big Sister". Just me and this crier that's finding out how it feels to be torn apart firsthand by the Nile. It's been about half a minute, I'll give her some air and see what I can get tonight. 

  
I pull her up by the rope that's squeezing her amputated leg tight so at least one part of her won't bleed out. I did that myself. The rest of her was by the crocodiles. She's wailing out with everything in her chest for me to let her go, crying innocence. I don't laugh but is it ever so hard to not crack a grin. The Nile'd taken her right leg and left a nice, dripping chunk of whatever was left up to her shin to almost match that dripping stub that she's hanging by. Her torso's bare with one of her tits torn off to the point where you can just **see** the fat trickling out while the blood's flowing like a fountain. They'd gotten her arm too but they skinned that mother off. Like, they got up to the wrist but I guess they'd ripped the skin off with their teeth while I'd pulled her up.   
"PLEASE LET ME GO!!" She says trying to save herself. Idiot. She's huffing and having a panic attack on the spot while the exposed parts of her body sting from the air hitting them, her eyes darting left and right for some kind of way out as she tries to form a sentence. 

  
"I'll ask one last time. Where's the rest of you?" 

  
You'd think I'm overdoing it by leagues, but it's the standard, reader. District 9's a piece of work and I'm assigned to this place for the next few months by my boss, Katherine. If you didn't know before, BoothWorld's a place where we like to keep a nice polite society but we love to rip shit apart like it was a christmas present. We're **like** this and _**We absolutely love it. I absolutely love it. I love my job and seeing little wannabe ganglords cry their eyes out while I reduce them to the size of a fucking roach.**_

  
So if you can't handle some fat-assed 20-something year old get slaughtered like it was the daily routine around here? You can go back to America and beg for scraps while wishing the A-Bombs didn't hit that place so hard. 

  
Still here? Good. Knew you had it in you.

  
Let's continue.

She continues to snivel, breathing in and out hard as she sees what I'd done to her friend before her after I'd finally fished her out of the water. Eyes widened and shaking around on that rope that's barely holding on anymore, she's screaming. Some bitty with tits that could crush your head and an ass that could end world hunger got her limbs torn apart by me. Down to the raw muscle and a bit of her spine peeking out from where her head was, it's enough to make a weak john squeal for information.   
"DOWN!! S-South of the docks and west of the gas s-station! God PLEASE just let me g-"  
I let her go, hearing a real surprised gasp when she feels gravity work against her and dip back into the water where she didn't realize that whatever failed experiment the Nile created snaps down their jaws and let a real nasty, heavy "SPLOOTCH" or "GRASH" noise loose. Two or three crocs snap into whatever was left of her, splitting her in between them and finishing the dinner that'd been taken from them.   
I'd known the place that she was talking about. It's a small little apartment in the surprisingly less-shitty part of town. It ain't bad. You can get a nice pack of tall boys for cheap at the gas station if the clerk doesn't immediately close up when you come up there.   
But anyways. I look over to the squealer's friend that I'd make quick work of earlier. I really wanna shake the hand of whoever approves of these Booth passports because Jesus-tap dancing- **Christ** is this bitch thick. She could clog an elephant's arteries from how thick she was, goddamn.   
"Well, misery loves company, babe. C'mon." I haul her over my shoulder before walking my little merry way over to my destination. Getting looks from even some of the crooks and S.O.B's from this place. If I were new blood, I'd be jumped and raped on the spot before someone tries to sell my body for a Booth show, but then you find out what I'm made out of and you end up like our little acquaintance that's croc food in the Nile. That's one of the reasons why I got hired by Kit-Kat to handle shit the stupid pigs can't handle or just to settle scores or payments that the pencil-neck geeks in the nicer districts can't take care of.   
If I weren't so built under this dress I loved so much, I'd be having trouble lifting this like- now-150 torso of tits and ass down the street. My custom maid dress is also just drenched in blood but I don't think it's anything worth shitting the bed over. They wash out, number one. Number two, it's about to get a lot more drenched soon.   
...  
Ah, there's the place. A dump for sure, but really one of the nicer dumps around this city. They even have some people hanging out up-front that stop and back way up when they see me, blood almost everywhere and this heavy-ass bod over my shoulder. The music stops and everyone's silent, hoping I don't paint the front door red with 'em. 

  
"Calling card for number 547BD9. Whoever that is or if anyone knows who that is, speak now. If not, I'll make the rest of you into my pillow for later on like this bitch right here!" It's always a classic: Demand the numbers and if I still have a body on me, I throw them into the crowd to startle the everliving hell out of them. It works and it gets results. The guy tripping on some shit he really shouldn't have starts screaming his head off, backing up before trying to run away while his friend's trying to calm him down. The girl that clearly didn't wanna be here starts crying softly after seeing the torso thud infront of them, seeing my handiwork. 

  
"B-Basement!" Someone finally calls out from the first floor, warranting everyone a glare to them. That fades real quick as soon as they realized that they'd do the same if Katherine'd sent Carmen to work an errand.   
"What a pal. I'm coming up there in about an hour for your compensation, alright? Keep that kinda attitude up and maybe you'll be able to move outta here, _maybe_!" The squealer stares off blankly before sliding back into their apartment and closing the window, the blinds and turning off the lights. Usually for snitching in any other district, you'd get protection from the cops or The Police Society to make sure you don't get jumped and sold off but here, nobody comes to protect you unless you yourself are the protection. Not sure why that guy squealed the way he did out in the open. Either he has enough to move out or he's hoping I pay him enough to barely hit that quota to move into another district. We'll have to see first if he's legit. 

Coming in, this place fuckin' **reeks** of burnt plastic the further I go down into this place. At the end of the road, I knock on the door politely because y'know, I wasn't raised in a barn.   
No answer. I knock again as the music from inside stops.

  
Knock. Knock. Knock. 

  
...

  
Locks fumbling around, click, slide before I finally see the door open with some small blonde naked chick with bruises all over her face and body answer. This really must be the place.   
"..Hello-"  


"I hate doing this to someone that wasn't already involved, but I'm afraid it's by association that you gotta go." My grip on her windpipe has her makeup running down her face. The blonde's trying her hardest to signal me to stop. It makes me grin while I squeeze a bit harder since it must look like quite the sight for her. The target and their thugs already a bloodied mess on the floor while someone was lucky enough to be used like a log against a bell. The viscera's still there sticking on the wall which would make Katherine gush in joy. Just wish I were recording it for bonus points. Ah well, that's what pictures are for. 

  
Her motions of "Stop" change into a motion of pointing upwards. I loosen up before looking up myself at the ceiling. "What's that? Got something for me?" 

  
"Up..Stairs... Br..Rother.."

  
Really now? The Rat? "Y'know, your brother ratted out the target's location and basically saved your life. Go him, yeah? Although.. I'm in a good mood tonight, babe." My grip on her tightens again in the worst way possible as I lift her off the ground, making her pee as I pin her against the wall like a little prison bitch. "Why shouldn't I kill you right here and now? Why are you different than the others behind me?"   
Blondie's eyes are widening and her arm grabs against my forearm like she's pleading for me to stop. Despite all that, she's able to get a word out before she starts fading out:

"Fahh.. Ffff.. Family... Mooo.. ving.."   
Aha. That makes sense. She drops to the ground after I let her go, slumped in a puddle of her own piss and blood. Ain't dead, just passed out. Promise. 

After making a little trip upstairs, I mosey on up to where that guy must have been and whadya' know? He was out peeking this entire time, being nosey. 

  
"We were gonna move out after all that.. We were put in a bad situation and" blahblahblahblah. It's always the same sad story here. Doing all the formal "professional" work's so annoying sometimes when you kill the target and suddenly you're Mother Teresa so they come to you and tell your their life story. I interrupt him and leave the redeemable check on the table for 9k.

  
"Take it or leave it." 

  
He stares blankly at it, suddenly frustrated and claiming the higher ground. I'm already tuning him out but jeez louise.. I let out a sigh as I nod absently, waiting for him to finish before letting him make the choice i'd been thinking of for a bit.   
"Rightyeahokayshutthefuckup. Your sister was talking about how you wanted to move out right? Only one of you can if the other sells the other out, yadda-yadda-yadda. Sell your sister for an advert for Katherine's show or some shit and you'll get 30k at least." That makes him shut up quicker than anything in the world. He pauses, stunned from the proposition I give him. I don't have time for this nor do I care because honestly? It's either that or live whatever time you have in D9 as a snitch and get it off worse than you had before. 

  
He chooses to get paid and move out of D9 as soon as he can. Ha. Ha ha ha hah. Never a price too high to sell out your family, huh? Time to call in the boys for a nice little quickie for the D1-3 high rollers.

I go back downstairs, carrying out the brand-new cargo and placing her in the Polite Boys' van, exchanging pleasantries before setting up downstairs where I'd made that entire mess.

C'mon.. Where's the signal on this thing..? A slap on this shitty little traphouse TV and.. There! Right on time to hear Kat's little tune she has for the year. It's a lot catchier than last year's, honestly. Love that gal. Anyway, I make myself comfortable on the couch with the quartered bitch from earlier as a throwpillow while I've got some of that Distance Iced Tea they sell at the gas station, pretty good stuff. 

The girl wakes up after preparations are done, it's just four grey walls a lightbulb with the camera set up where I'd guess would be the top-left corner. She gets up, trying to figure out where the hell she even is. "Hello..? Big bro..?" Oh boy, the audiences will love that, those sick bastards. Before long, the wall where the camera is facing starts moving slowly, the blondie gasping and realizing what's happening. "No..! No!! **NO! COREY, YOU PROMISED!!** " She says. He sure did. Now she's looking around frantically as she slowly runs out of space to knock or tap or look for a way out while crying her eyes out, screaming at the top of her lungs as if yelling any harder would poof her somewhere else. Her screams turn into smaller cries and whimpers as the camera takes in more wall while it moves to get a better look at gal. Slower and slower while she's pressed up against the wall, you can start to hear a real nasty crunching sound while she'd reduced to "Ugh's" and "I hate you's", blood and guts slowly seeping out as the wall struggles to finish it's job. Now since I'm a worker and get gifted the free VIP stuff (Hint, hint. Go and become a V.I.P member.), where it'd usually cut off, you see the camera slide in and focus on the partition of the wall where it's see-through on the other side. It focuses on blondie's body while it contorts and flattens in a way a human body shouldn't. Her eyeball pops out of her eyes while simutaniously gets mushed while she finally gets flattened and crushed into ground beef. 

You hear the nasty, wet slime of what she used to be slide against the floor and wall when it retracts, making the corner of the room where she was one-and-done completely red. The feed cuts off except for me where I see Kat's little cartoon avatar make little gestures in a loop onscreen. 

"Carmen! Call █ ████ ██ ███████ !" appearing on screen. "How's that happen it's so unrealistic!" you might say. Jerry-rigging the tv needs my personalized code to work as well as premium so can it. will ya'? You already got to hear about crocodiles in a river of a city that'd make the Middle East look like The Hamptons. Things make sense the more you live here even if makes zero sense, if that makes sense.

_**Anyways**_ , I call the boss and immediately she picks up. "Not bad, Chicken Carm! You got the guys that were distributing that garbage and you got us a nice quick shot with a plot! I could chop you up and use you as toppings for pizza, you stone-cold bitch!~" That's my boss, Katherine. She's got a real way of speaking to people although this is her telling me that she's real pleased with my work. "Did you get your dress dirty? How long'd it take for everything?- Ooh! Take pictures! Take pictures for the boards and some for meeeee pleeease! Okay- Okay, talk to you soon!" 

_Click!_

Yep. I did a good job. I'll have to call in The Polite Society soon after I take pics but first, I gotta finish this DiscTea while I mess around with my meat pillow. I love this stuff. I love this job.


End file.
